


Plenty Of Peaches

by Planetargo



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Beating, Bleeding, Bonding, Bullying, Cute, Enemies to Friends, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Healing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Talking, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25720489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Planetargo/pseuds/Planetargo
Summary: A strange routine evolved between Steve and Billy. One involving Billy pestering Steve at lunch, when all he wanted to do was enjoy his peach.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 11
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter one

After the fourth bell, when all the students hopped out of their desks and headed for the door, Steve knew that it was time for lunch. To most, it was their favorite 'period' but to Steve, he preferred to sit through another boring Calculus class than being surrounded by noisy teenagers. He had his special spot. A lonely table by the windows that had a view of a wooded bird feeder. Sometimes he would watch the birds coming and going, seeing if he could remember their names.

After... well. Everything. No one bothered to sit with him anymore. They would look at him picking at the sad cafeteria food, and would just look away. Continue their conversation. This year Nancy and Jonathan had different lunch schedules, theirs coming right after his. That was okay though. Steve was used to being by himself. That's basically been his life for the last year.

The food was just as bad as any other school. Its all packaged and frozen, always looking a little gray. The chicken sandwiches were always dry, so dry that it sucked all the saliva out of your mouth. French Fries never had salt like the whole school had high blood pressure. It just really sucked.

When he would walk through the line, he would skip all the way to the end. Where the fruit laid ahead. The apples were okay, not that sweet. And the bananas were always bruised. But the peaches...

They were good. 

It was the one thing that Steve could tolerate. They were sweet and firm, always a pretty pink. And for some odd reason, it seemed that everyone ignored their existence. No one ever touched them.

So he would sit by the window every day, watch the birds fly in and out of the feeder, wondering where they would go when they left. His peach always sitting in his hand, taking bites now and then. He had the same routine for countless days.

Until Billy Hargrove waltzed over with a stupid grin on his face and thumb hanging off his belt loop.

He plopped down in the seat across from Steve, resting his arms on the table as he brought himself in closer. "How we doing today, pretty boy?" He teased. And god, did Steve hate that name. Steve didn't reply to the question, just leaned back in his seat, taking another large bite out of his peach. Billy's eyes followed the movement.

"Well jeez Harrington, I'm doing just fine. Thanks for asking." The sarcasm was strong and did nothing to change Steve's cold shoulder. He munched on the flesh of his fruit, taking his time to chew before he swallowed.

"What do you want." Maybe it was the way Steve said it as though he had no interest in his company, But Billy's grin grew larger by the second. He took it as a challenge.

"Just wanted to stop by and see what was going on in this neck of the woods." Billy's neck stretched up, scanning this side of the cafeteria. His eyes look at all the empty tables surrounding them and then chuckled.

"Not much, I can tell."

Steve rolled his eyes, taking another bite. "Yeah, well I'm not sure if _that_ neck of the woods is any better." He said with a mouth full of fruit, while also gesturing to the other side of the room.

"It's not so bad," Billy watched the room, looked at all the students chatting and girls giggling. "It just takes getting used too." Steve followed his gaze, noticing the same things.

"I have to say though, I'm not really a big fan of cows." Steve almost choked on the food in his mouth, tiny droplets of spit spraying on the table. He didn't want to laugh At his horrible joke. He was trying to keep his composure, but looking at them...

Billy's eyes shined with glory, feeling proud that he was able to make the other laugh. Steve swallowed and wiped his mouth while clearing his throat.

"If they're cows, what am I?" Steve eyed Billy, waiting for the harsh insult.

"I don't know," Billy pondered, eyes raking over his face. "But you definitely aren't like them."

Steve scrunched his nose, thinking about how dumb Billy sounded. "What is that supposed to mean?"

They held this staring contest, neither wanting to back down. Billy with his smile on his face and Steve feeling slightly insecure, hating that he felt that way. But suddenly Billy's eyes dropped to the half-eaten fruit on the table.

"You gonna finish that?" Hand pointing at the peach.

"What?" Steve questioned, his mind not quick enough to keep up with Billy. Without even being able to give a reply, Billy's tan arm reached across the table and picked up the other half of the peach.

"Thanks." He winked, after taking a bite.

Steve's mouth motioned like one of a fish, pink lips not knowing how to form words.

"Alright then, guess I should get going." Billy pushed himself up from his seat. "Talk to ya later, pretty boy."

He finished that sentence with one big bite of the fruit, making sure Steve saw him. He walked away, a sway to his steps. Steve watched him all the way to the big double doors. And as Billy slipped into the hall, he threw the peach away without even looking. Making a perfect shot in the black trash bin.

Steve sat there with a blank face, mouth still hanging open. What was that all about? Billy never made an effort to talk to Steve, not after...

He didn't want to think about it. He had been doing so well not thinking about it, and he wanted to keep it that way. He frowned down at the table, staring intensely at the linoleum cover, and then it hit him.

 _That dick_.

"He took my fucking peach." 


	2. Chapter two

It was Thursday afternoon, the clouds a dark gray. Steve was looking out of his window, well, not _his_ window, but the window he looks out of every day. He noticed that the upcoming storm has scared away all the birds, no longer seeing any Blue Jays or Finches.

  
He thought of those birds as his friends. They always stick around, they are loyal. But the lack of birds wasn't the only change today. His peach sat on the table untouched, lopsided. He wasn't very hungry, and really just wanted to use this lunchtime to lay his head on the table and sleep.

  
He was always tired. 

  
Never sleeping all the way through the night. When he would get up to pee at three in the morning, he could no longer go back to sleep when he went back to his bed. So, as a result, Steve was dazed and out of it.

  
There was a loud smack on the table which hurt his head from the vibrations. He looked up with an annoyed face. Billy was standing with his hands pressed against the tabletop, a bright smile on his face, blue eyes glowing. 

  
Steve groaned in his head. Billy never looked bad. Ever. Hair always soft and shiny, skin clear from any pubescent pimples. Even Steve got acne sometimes. Billy always looked ready for the day.  
And that pissed Steve off.

  
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." This time Steve groaned out loud.

  
"You're so annoying." 

  
Billy took a seat across from him, just like last week.   
"So I've been told." 

  
Steve rubbed his tired eyes and then yawning, just to have them fill up with tears. Billy's eyebrow hitched, eyes narrowing in.

  
"No sleep?" Billy asked while crossing his arms on the table. Steve stared down at his peach, wishing that he had an appetite so he could do something other than sitting here. So he could distract himself.

  
"Uh," He rubbed his eye again with his sleeve, "Yeah, I guess not. Since you just woke me up."  
That made Billy laugh, and Steve just couldn't understand why he was like this. It's like the guy couldn't take a hint, or maybe he could but just didn't care either way.

  
"You're no fun if you're not awake." He smirked at Steve. He mindlessly started rolling the peach around on the table, giving his hands something to do. Steve looked outside, noticed that the clouds were getting darker by the second. Nimbostratus is what Dustin had told him. He thought about all the little birds and worried that they all had someplace to hide away from the storm. That they weren't alone.

  
"Nimbostratus," Steve mumbled quietly to himself. Billy eyed him looking confused.

  
"What?" 

  
Steve shook his head, trying to regain his thoughts. "Um, the cloud. Its an uh, Nimbostratus cloud. When hot and cold weather mix with each other causing a really dark..." His words faltered, noticing the way Billy was staring at him. 

"Right," Steve said.

  
"Yeah, I know what a Nimbostratus cloud is," Billy stated. Steve wishes he could bang his face into the table right now, feeling like a total idiot. Of course, Billy knows what that is, he has like all perfect grades.

  
Billy's eyes fleeted out the glass window, watching the tiny droplets of water began to hit the ground. "This is my favorite kind of weather."  
Steve grimaced. "I hate it." Weather like this was awful.

  
"Is that so?" Billy smiled. Steve everted his eyes.

  
"What is likable about this? It's dark and wet, you can't do anything but sit in your house. It sucks." And then Steve thought about his birds, and how scared they must be.   
"Two different people from two different worlds." Billy examined the peach, checking around it for any bruises. 

  
"Do you bring these from home?" He asked. Steve frowned, not understanding how everyone in the universe didn't see them.  
"No. They're from the lunch line."

  
Billy nodded his head. "Huh, never noticed," And then he took a large bite from the side, "They're good though." 

  
Steve stretched his arm across the table as fast as he could, trying to regain his fruit. The only food he had. But Billy was faster, yanking his arm straight into the air. He had a triumphant smile on his face, still chewing food in his mouth.

  
"Fuck you, man." Steve spit. This is the second time Billy has finessed his peach. He didn't even get one bite.

  
"If you insist," Billy replied. Steve rolled his eyes at the crude joke.

  
"Why don't you just go get your own, there's like a whole basket in the line." He fussed. A signature smile played on Billy's lips, one that he would use with Mrs. Wheeler. 

  
"I like yours better," Billy spoke with a bite. And then he was up out of the seat, leaving with Steve's peach. It was actually raining now, the ground shining from the water.

He sighed to himself.

  
He couldn't decide if he wanted to spend the rest of his lunch thinking about the birds, or his peach.


	3. Chapter three

After walking through the lunch line, he discovered that Billy was at his table, waiting for him.

Agony traveled all the way from Steves's heart; to his gut. Not this again, please not again he was thinking to himself. He gripped the peach in his hand, convincing his mind that he wasn't going to let billy take it this time. He kept a direct stare at his curly locks, making sure that his face showed that he wasn't playing today. 

He was going to tell him to fuck off today. Tell him that he was a nuisance, to leave him alone. He wasn't playing anymore. And why did all this mean so much to Steve? He had no clue. He just wasn't ready for change. Not yet at least. But once he did arrive at the table, words ready to shoot from his mouth, he faltered. 

His shoulders dropped from their defensive pose, and he held the peach loosely in his hand.

Billy Hargrove sat quietly with his hands folded on the table, and a dark purple bruise spreading from the top of his temple, all the way to his jaw. He avoided Steves's eyes.

Steve didn't know what to say. So he sat down slowly, eyes baring holes into Billy's face. It was different seeing him this way, him being the one that had to go to school with the busted face. Everyone looking and talking among themselves.

It was hard for him to find the right words, not that he needed to say anything at all. He tried to think of how he felt when he went through this last November.  
And then suddenly his blue eyes shot up at Steve, the purple making them look icy and bright.

"Don't," Billy stated. Making it clear that his bruise would not the topic discussion.

Steve just nodded his head. He felt like he was intruding into Billy's space. But then again, this was Steves's table. Maybe Billy sat here because he wanted the company. He felt the peach in his hand, soft to the touch. He wanted to eat it, in fact, he'd been looking forward to it since the third period. But looking at Billy right now...

He took the peach and stretched his arm across the table, held the fruit in front of Billy.  
"Here." He offered.

Billy looked at the peach and then at Steve. He loosely gripped it. Their fingers touched for a millisecond, skin on skin contact. It made Steve want to pull his arm away faster.

After a beat of him holding the peach, he took a bite, the juice dripping from the corner of his mouth. His tongue chased it, licking it up swiftly. His eyes never left Steves, but Steve watched the way he licked his lips, how he swallowed that bite.

"Told you," Billy said, not really a smile but something like that. Steve frowned his brows, ready to ask him to explain further.

"I like yours better." 

Steves's neck went a little warm. He swallowed and tried to gain control of his insides again.

"Well, they're not really mine, they all taste the same." Steve fumbled with the hem of his sweater.

"You pick the good ones." He retorted. 

Steve noticed Billy's hands, large and tan. And it hit him that there were no busted knuckles, no scrapes. Nothing, not a single sign that Billy fought back. That made Steve question the situation. It didn't make much sense. Billy didn't hesitate to beat Steve, punch him hard. He looked like he wanted to. There was no way he came out of whatever quarrel he was in without a broken hand. 

Whoever hurt him, Billy didn't want to hurt them back. Or couldn't. 

That might have made a weird twist in his gut, an instinct that something wasn't right.  
Billy noticed the way Steve gazed over him, brain working in circles trying to connect the dots. Billy didn't want him to connect anything.

"Don't think too hard Princess, " Billy picked at the pit of the fruit, "You might hurt your self."

Steve gave him a stern look. And Billy returned it with a toothy grin.

"Never took you like a sweater kind of guy." He pointed a finger at Steve's cream-colored sweater. He shifted, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"And?" He responded defensively.

"Nothing, it just makes you look, " Billy used his pointer and thumb in a tiny pinching motion, "Small."

This made Steve want to sit up taller, readjust his position. "Well, I never took you as someone who wears women's jeans." He smiled to himself, feeling proud of the rebuttal. Especially when Billy's eyes grew wide and his back went rigged.

"Excuse me? Watch your mouth, these are not women's jeans, you ass." 

Steve laughed, finding it hilarious.  
"Well, they're skin-tight like them."

"Shut the fuck up. They are Levis, and they fit me perfectly-” he stopped his sentence Midway, pausing for a second. But his frustrated face was replaced with a wide smile.

"You been looking, Harrington?" Billy's tongue poked around in his cheek.  
Steves's bravado fell instantly, face growing redder by the second.

"What? I, no- no of course not. It just, I mean look at them!" He tried his best to maneuver the conversation. It's not like he stared at his ass all the time, sure he looked at it once. But only to point out how ridiculously tight they were.

"Can you even fucking breath with those on?"

Billy laughed loudly, eyes crinkling at the sides. As if the beginning of lunch didn't happen, when they were sitting there trying not to point out the elephant in the room.

"Oh. So now you're trying to say I have a big package." It was like his smile never stopped growing.

Once again Steve flailed, eyes going wide, face becoming even hotter.

"Jesus! No. That's not what-" Steve had a sudden realization, face morphing into one of irritation.

"Ha, ha, ha. You are so fucking hilarious." He said sarcastically.

Billy looked at Steve with a cracked smile, eyes warm and inviting. Just the tiniest bit of color on his cheeks. And Steve felt proud.

He felt like he had done something good.   
He made Billy laugh. He made him smile. Pride took over Steves's brain.

When Billy looked at him like that, it made his heart do questionable things. Like a magnetic field forced his brown eyes to lock with Billys blue ones. And now that sweater he's wearing felt all to hot. 

And then the bell rang. 

The sound of the period bell sent sound waves through the cafeteria, bouncing off the walls. The sound of the students got louder as they made their way to the door.

The trance that Steve was stuck in broke, like the snap of a twig. Both boys averted their eyes. Billy was the first to stand, to pick up the leftover pieces of the peach. Steve felt like he had just woken up, confused about his surroundings, trying to get a hold over his senses.

He soon followed Billy, standing and grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Thanks," Billy said, lifting the peach pit in the air. And now Steves's mouth felt really dry. Hard to swallow dry.

"Sure." It came out as a croak. Billy gave him a short smile and went to go follow the rest of the students.

Steve watched him go, watched the way he walked.

He looked at Billy's beat-up Converse and compared them to his well-kept Nikes. His black T-shirt that was way too tight, and thought about his cream-colored sweater that hung a little bit big. 

They were so different. And then he thought about something that Billy said the last time he sat with Steve.

' _Two different people from two different worlds_.' 

And yeah. Maybe he was right. They were polar opposites. Nothing in common except maybe for the dislike they had for Hawkins.  
But that didn't bother him. He wouldn't want to be friends with someone like himself anyways.

 _Friends_.

He didn't mean to think that. Billy Hargrove was not- he couldn't be his friend. It was in the universes rule book. But Billy kept coming around, looking for more. It was possible that that was an inevitable ending. That eventually Steve would have to face the facts. But he could face those another day.

Steve left lunch feeling like he had accomplished something. Not even thinking about his peach and how he didn't get to eat it.


	4. Chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, im not even gonna lie, this is my fav chapter. Even if im not finished with the fic.

What lunch used to be for Steve, was a boring and loud room full of people he couldn't stand. The only part that he enjoyed was watching Tommy throw food at some of the girls at other tables, and watching his little birds fly back and forth. 

It used to be lonely.

Used to.

But then somewhere along the way, Billy came into that picture. Sharp smile and blue eyes. He took a seat at his table as if it had his name on it.

Days went by, and Billy came around more and more. Conversations grew, and changed and morphed into stronger ones. Deeper ones. That ball of annoyance that Steve once had with Billy started to fade away into the air. It was replaced with excitement for the others company.

Sure, every now and then they would argue, pick at each other for things that are more than stupid. But no matter what, Billy would come back.

The peach issue was still unresolved. Steve thought he had it all figured out. He thought bringing two peaches, one for him, and the other for Billy, would fix the issue. 

But of course, it didn't. Billy only wanted his peach. Steve would hand him his own, and Billy would look at Steve like he was joking. 

"You're kidding me right?" 

Steve looked at the peach in Billy's hand, examining the outside. "What? Is it bruised or something?"

Billy placed the fruit on the table, crossing his arms in disapproval. Steve rolled his eyes.

"I don't want this one," Billy stated. Steves's hand flailed in the air.

"Then go get a different one!" 

Billy smiled. "I want yours." That statement didn't even mean anything, but it made Steves's eyes widen, and his heart race. The words were playing over in his head.

Even though his cheeks were red, and he was sure Billy saw the surprised look on his face, he averted his eyes and tried to play it off.

"You're so annoying." There was no heat to his words. He defiantly threw the fruit at Billy's chest.

He caught it with ease, chuckling to himself.

"I feel like I've heard that one before."

"Oh? Really?" Steve said sarcastically.

It felt like there was always so much for him to talk about. So many things he wanted to tell Billy and ask him about. But lunch never felt long enough. It was always too short. It's a thought that's been on Steves mind for a while, but he's been too scared to ask. Afraid that he would break the sacred thing they had going on. 

But would asking Billy to watch a movie be that bad?

"Have you seen 'Racing with the Moon'?" Steve asked while messing with the buttons on his jacket. Billy raised an eyebrow.

"The one with Nicolas Cage?"   
Steve nodded his head, praying that the answer was no. It was a movie he had been wanting to watch but never got to when it came out in theaters. Especially with all the monster shit going on.

"No." It was a quick reply. "I honestly thought it looked pretty stupid." Steves's eyes dropped to the table.

Shit. 

He knew it was dumb to ask. Billy would never want to watch a movie like that. Probably to romantic for his tastes.

"Oh." Steve scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah, you're probably right." He didn't mean to sound as sad as he did. But his disappointment seeped through his facade.

Billy finally seemed to be seeing what was going on here. The hints clicking into place. 

"I mean, " He stared at Steve, trying not to seem like a fool. He swallowed and sat back, relaxed. Trying to make it look like he wasn't as eager as he was. "I mean, I don't really care. A movie is a movie, so what if it's stupid." 

Steve raised his brows in question.  
"Yeah?" He asked. Billy handled his peach that hadn't been touched once

"Yeah. Sometimes stupid is good." He looked Steve in the eyes, blue spheres dancing back and forth. Steve let out a breath and tried his best to choke down his smile. But there was nothing to do about the twist in his stomach. 

"I have it if you wanna watch it. I mean, if you're even interested." He was practically buzzing in his seat. A knot of fear and rejection was resting on his chest, but a sliver of hope was trying to shine through.

Billy sat there thoughtfully, eyes never leaving Steve. His movement on the peach stilled. "That depends, " he smirked and brought the fruit to his mouth, taking a nice bite for the first time that lunch period.

"Will there be snacks?" Steve licked his lips and smiled like a little girl, practically _beaming_ with happiness.

"Whatever you want Hargrove." Billy slowly nodded his head, repeating those words to himself like he was thinking about the indication of that statement.

"Well, I guess it's settled then." A toothy grin was plastered on his face, freckles moving with his cheeks.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets to try and hide the fidgeting of his fingers.

"Yeah, I guess so-" 

A loud hand smacked the tabletop, making both boys jump. Peering through his lashes, Steve saw Tommy leaning against the table, a devilish smile stretched across his face.

"What are we up to boys? Having a good talk?"

Steve looked at Tommy with an unamused face. He made it pretty clear to Steve that they were not on good terms. It never escalated from there but with Tommy up in his face, pushing him against his car, that's when the truce fizzled out.

"Yeah, maybe," Billy spoke before Steve could even find the words to say. His head snapped towards Billy, being set back by the dark glare he was sending at Tommy.

Tommy's jaw tightened. Eyes going sharp. There was more tension between Billy and him then there was with Steve. 

"Well don't mind me, " Tommy said slowly. "I just thought I'd hang around for a bit." It was like every word was meant to piss Billy off. 

And it did. His nostrils flared, and his mouth grew tight. an unexpected hand was placed on Steves's shoulder that made him flinch. Tommy slid down next to him with ease, wrapping a freckled arm around both of Steves's shoulders.

The closeness was almost unbearable. After having Tommys spit on his face, he never wanted to be this close to him ever again. 

Steve shrunk under his touch, face twisting into disgust. Billy watched Tommy like a hawk from across the table. His arms were folded as he leaned back in his chair.

"So what secrets are we sharing you guys?" He was so obnoxious. Tommy looked to both of them with a closed smile.

"Harrington here was just telling me about a nice catch he got the other night." Billy suddenly threw on a friendly face, jaw still tight.

"Oh, I didn't know Stevie was still getting around," Tommy said as he shook Steves's shoulder. That made him roll his eyes. But the real question was that what Billy said wasn't true at all. He gave Billy a silent but confused face.

"Oh yeah, " Billy egged on. "He's got a lot of tricks up his sleeves." That fake smile was still in place.

"Well guys, don't keep me waiting. Tell me about this _girl_." His grip around Steves's shoulders seemed to get tighter. 

"Yeah _Stevie_ why don't you tell Tommy about your lay." 

Steve glared at Billy, not understanding the purpose of this lie. And now he was put on the spot.

He swallowed, trying hard to think of something. Some girl he had messed around with. His mind was going blank.

"She uh, yeah she was nice. Real nice." He stuttered.

"Come on Harrington, that's all your gonna tell me?" Tommy's face was close to his cheek, got breath ghosting his ear. Every word he said was covered in this fake playfulness. While he was faced away, the look on Billys face changed. He connected eyes with Steve, trying to tell him something but he couldn't get it.

"Well, " Steve swallowed nervously, eyes going back and forth between the other two.  
"What do you want to know?"

"Was she cute? Did she have a nice ass?" Even though Steve knew Tommy thought he was bullshit, because he totally was, it still pissed him off that he was talking down to him. As if he was playing along.

Steve tried so hard to come on top, to fight his way against Tommy.

"No, I mean _yes_ , but she-" 

Tommy put a hand on his chin and hummed like he was thinking.

"Let me guess. Was she fat? Lots of hair, you know, " He leaned in so he could whisper into Steves's ear. "The one with the big nose?"

Steve was so ready to say something. Thoughts already lined up in his mind getting in position to shoot. But once again, Billy swooped in and stole his chance, his thunder.

"Now, now Tommy," Billy said with a sly smirk. A confused look dropped over Tommy's face, "That's no way to talk about your mother."

It was like the whole cafeteria, went silent.

"Steves been working really hard for the girls lately, so cut him some slack. He's doing his best." That dumb and cutting smile was vibrant on Billy.

Tommy was like a rock. A deathly tight grip on Steve. Pissed glared at Billy.

A chuckle that sooner turned into a full belly laugh came from the other side of the table. Billy was shaking his head back and forth, giggling like a mad man. This didn't amuse Tommy. Not at all. Steve still hasn't processed the joke fast enough to laugh, instead, he was focused on the ache in his arms, and the look in Tommy's eyes.

"Wow. Really got me, Hargrove." Steve heard his jaw click, the sound echoed through his ears. "Really fucking got me." He gritted out.

A sudden gasp came out of Steves's mouth. The surrounding arms that we're already so tight _squeezed_ him. Tommy's fingers bit into the meat of Steves's bicep.

And then the pressure was gone. Tommy stood above them, towering over their heads. Steve put a hand over the sore spot of where he squeezed him, while Billy...

Billy looked at Tommy like he had that night at the Byers. Like he could kill and kill until everyone around him was dead. 

"You two are fucking hilarious." Tommy spit.  
He stood there for a couple of seconds, eyeing both of them. He twisted around and started to walk away, his body looking tense.

Tommy stopped and turned to Steve.

"Hey Harrington, say hello to Nancy for me, will ya?" And then he started laughing, finally walking away this time. Steve knew he said that on purpose. Tommy knew about their break up. Everyone did. 

It was supposed to hurt Steve. To remind him of something he couldn't have. Of something that didn't want him.

But it didn't hurt.

Not like Steve thought it would. It was strange because a month ago he would start to think about all the memories they had together, the things she said to him at Ginas party. But right now Steve felt nothing, and he didn't know why.

He looked over at Billy, having forgotten he was there. His blue eyes were focused on Steve, felt like they have been for a while.

"Why were you ever friends with him?" Billy asked like Tommy just didn't fit in Steves's picture.

Steve was quick to say, "Why were _you_ friends with him?"

Billy nodded to himself, "You got me there."   
And then both of them chuckled. 

Steve stared after Tommy's figure. He cringed at his old self. The person that used to hang out with dickbags like that.

"I used to be such an asshole." He mumbled. Billy gave Steve a look.

"Used to?" He questioned with a smirk.

Steve rolled his eyes with a smile. "Shut up."

Billy had a lingering stare, his eyes focusing on nothing but everything at once. 

"I can't really say anything, can I?" He asked. He looked at Steve like he wanted an answer. 

Billy continued. "I mean look, I'm no better than he is. I still wonder why you even talk to me." 

A confession is what it felt like. It was a foggy window into Billy's head. His thoughts that he kept away from the rest of the world. 

He frowned at the boy across from him, a serious look in his eyes. "People change Billy."

He wouldn't meet Steves's eyes. He just pulled his hand to his mouth and began to chew at his thumbnail. 

"Yeah. I know, I'm tryin." Billy mumbled.  
Steve nodded his head. 

"Then that's all that matters."

Like the end of every session they had together, the bell rang. That annoying sound would cut their conversation at the worst times. But today not so much. This felt like a good place to stop.

They did the routine of standing and grabbing their things, taking their time, trying to make it last.   
Steve waited for Billy to get his things together, even though he was packed and ready to go.

"What time?" Billy cut in while he was shoving a binder in his bag.

Steve blinked. "Huh?"

"Jesus, " Billy rolled his eyes, "what time for the movie, dipshit."

Steve stomped his foot, angry at himself for being so stupid.

"Right, right. Um, how about, does eight work for you? He said nervously. It was different when they were just talking about it. But now that specific plans were in place it made Steve hot and sweaty. Like he could fall through the floor.

"And the day?" Billy asked. Steve mentally slapped himself. Get your shit together. 

"Right." He stated. "Saturday?" He pitched.

Billy snickered with bright teeth, and Steve really hoped it wasn't because of him.   
"Yeah, that's fine." He had a soft look in his eyes, the blue looking warmer than usual.

Steve nodded. "Okay."

"Okay," Billy repeated, lingering for a moment. And then he was walking away. 

The rest of that day went by in a haze, classes feeling like mush. His thoughts only thinking of one thing and one thing only. Something he would never admit out loud.

Through his Chemistry class, Steve realized he never gave Billy his address. 

No, Steve didn't panic about it.

And no, Steve didn't rewrite his street name five times because his handwriting was too sloppy.

And no, Steve didn't wait thirty minutes after school ended just to make sure Billy had left before he slipped the sheet of paper into his locker.

And Steve _definitely_ did not smile to himself in the car on his way home.


	5. Chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oof... Sorry, everyone.

"Hey, Harrington!" A loud voice hollered from down the hallway. The school was finally over and all the students were making their way out to the parking lots, big smiles on their faces. It was a beautiful day, the sun was out with hardly any clouds, and now it's around four-thirty when the sky starts turning into a pink glaze.

Steve took the last of his books out of his locker, shutting the metal door with his shoulder. He had stayed late because of the desperate help he needed with his college essays. It only took three of his teachers telling him that he wouldn't make it into any schools for him to finally ask for help. He never really made good grades in school. It was hard for him to focus, to comprehend what his teachers were explaining. He always felt dumb, so he joined sports to pull that weight. But it never fixed anything. When he was an asshole he was dumb, and even when he isn't an asshole he's still dumb. He wouldn't call it a insecurity, but it definitely wasn't something he was proud of.

He turned his head, books in hand. Tommy was walking down the hall with a smug smile that tugged at all the freckles on his face. Steve sighed, not wanting to deal with his bullshit. Even though it was a great joke, Steve sometimes wishes that Billy had never fucked with Tommy like he did the other day at lunch. It was obvious it pissed him off, only making him come and bother Steve more. 

But never Billy.

Tommy never came around at lunch anymore, always avoiding their table Steve assuming it was because Billy was there, but outside of that cafeteria was dangerous. That was Tommy's turfs.

They were now standing face to face. Steve never moved from where his locker was stationed, letting Tommy come to him.

"What's up Stevie boy?" 

Steve cringed. "Hi, Tommy." He said with dislike. 

Tommy licked his lips, eyes peering up and over Steve's head. Looking to see if anyone was around. 

"Let's have a little chat." He asked, fake smile written all over his face. Steve shook his head, already trying to move around Tommy. 

"Nah, I've got things to do." He spoke. A quick hand grabbed his forearm, making his eyes grow wide.

His books scattered all over the floor, creating a loud smack that echoed through the narrow tunnels. A vison flew through his mind of Tommy's hand squeezing his arm at lunch after Billy's laugh was like a big slap to Tommy's face. The dangerous look in his eye, the pain that Steve felt. 

The sting.

The burn.

A strong feeling of dread shot through his bloodstream, making his face go pale. The hold on his wrist didn't let up either. "It wasn't a question." He hissed in Steve's ear.

He knew he was afraid, that Tommy had the upper hand here. But he opened his stupid fucking mouth. With a shaky inhale, Steve muttered, "Make me."

Tommy chuckled, his closeness causing it to vibrate through Steve. He clenched his eyes shut, getting ready to sprint.

His grip got tighter as another arm started sneaking around Steve's shoulders.

"Well, if you say so." 

His body was jerked left into the lockers, his head hitting one of the handles. He groaned in pain, vision going white. There was another pull, then his body was jerked right, but there was no impact on lockers or brick walls. Instead, he had been pulled through a classroom door, body falling against the cold tile. His hands instantly went to the throbbing pain of his head, fingers grazing over the growing knot.

The heavy wooden door closed behind them, the light of the hall disappearing. 

_click_

Tommy locked the door. 

Steve opened his eyes at the sound, getting a view of Tommy's frame towering above him. He looked like a giant, shadow of the room morphing his face.

Steve blinked his eyes over and over again, trying to re-center his vision. 

Tommy walked over to his fallen body, crouching down next to Steve.

"Ya know, you're really starting to piss me off." His hand came down to the collar of his sweater, he yanked it up creating a huffed grunt out of Steve.

"What happened to you, man?" 

Another pull of his sweater.

"You used to be tolerable," Tommy brought his face close, making Steve's head turn away, but Tommy's cold hand harshly gripped his cheeks forcefully turning his head to look at him. Steve tried to fight, his hands holding on to Tommy's shoulders, nails biting into the skin.

"But now...you're just a huge pain in my ass." His black eyes stared at Steve's. 

Searching.

Tommy dropped Steve's weight, throwing him back into the floor. He rolled over on his side, trying to look for something to fight back with. Sadly...

They were in the old band room. With nothing in it. The room was completely vacant except for a couple of desks.

Tommy continued to ramble. "I mean, I didn't really care for you that much before, you know, before you went all bitch on me," He lifted one of his legs, placing a hard shoe on Steve's ribcage. With the force of his weight, he rolled Steve over, placing the shoe in the middle of his chest. All of the air left Steve's lungs.

"But God, now every time I see that stupid face of yours, I just want to kick your fucking teeth in." The hate that was coming out of Tommy's worlds were like individual kicks to the stomach. 

They weren't friends.

Never really were.

But Steve has never had someone want to hurt him so badly in his life. 

Except for Billy. Who he really wishes was hear right now. Billy would save him, hurt for him. 

But he's not. Steve thought about lunch earlier, and how Billy and he laughed the whole time. Smiles never leaving his face, it almost hurt. He thought he would be going home with that bright happy smile. He imagined his parents asking him if he had a good day and him replying _yes_.

Looks like he thought wrong.

Tommy got back down on his Knee again, crowding Steve's space. He wanted to escape, run away but he couldn't. He just couldn't. The pain from his head was distracting, making it hard for him to focus on Tommy, or the fact that his fist was rising into the air, knuckles pressed tight.

A hard punch was inflicted on Steve's left cheek, his head making a forced smack in the other direction. He could feel the inside of his lips split from the pressure of them getting hit across the bone of his teeth. 

"Fuck you, Harrington." And then the punch came from his right side. The same pain and pressure. The movements were to fast for Steve to scream out in pain, the hits coming and going before he could breathe in the air to do so. The only noise he could make was a throaty grunt.

Spit was dribbling down the side of his mouth, or maybe it was blood. His face felt incredibly hot and worn. 

"I waisted my time hanging around you," Tommy whispered in his ear. He slowly stood to both feet, flexing his hands that were red and swollen.

Steve wore his fluffy cream-colored sweater today, the one that Billy always commented on. He was sure that it was ruined, the collar probably covered in dark red blood. That made Steve angry. But he couldn't fight back, but he so desperately wanted too. 

Tommy placed his foot right over Steve's crotch, slightly putting pressure. Steve panicked, eyes going wide like dinner plates, he made a quick motion to scoot back, his head running into the leg of a desk. His body flailed as Tommy followed him, a scary scowl on his face.

"You are nothing, Harrington. You hear that?!" Steve was cornered against the desk, his breaths coming out in uneven patterns. Tommy's foot was once again placed on Steve's crotch, but this time pushing.

"Stop!" Steve screamed, throat raw from his noises and the blood that coated it, " _Please_!"

But Tommy did the opposite. He pressed and twisted his foot like he was putting out a cigarette, and with every slight movement, Steve groaned and flailed.

He eventually stopped, taking his foot back, eyeing Steve to make sure he was satisfied. 

Steve never thought Tommy could be so cruel.

So _evil_.

He remembers how they used to act like friends, used to hang out at Steve's house, and read comic books. He thought they had a bond, even if the title of friends didn't apply to them anymore. It made tears sting his eyes, his throat close. He would never allow himself to cry in front of Tommy. He couldn't.

Or really he wouldn't let himself.

It was as if this whole thing just started, where Tommy had just locked the door behind him. His towering frame was threatening, as it was supposed to be. Tommy chuckled while shaking his head.

Steve laid there curled up, looking mangled. He felt so small he could vanish into thin air.

"You are so pitiful." He said with another laugh. "Remember when you actually had a life? When people actually liked you?" 

Steve closed his eyes and turned his head away, but that didn't block out Tommy's words.

"Yeah, me too." Tommy agreed to himself, and like a flash of bright light, his foot came barreling into Steve's stomach. The shape of his sneaker imprinting on to his skin. This was the first time Steve was actually able to scream, to cry in pain. It hurt so bad he sobbed, blood mixed spit slipping out of his mouth as he cried with no sound.

"If you talk to me again like you did the other day, I will fucking _ruin_ you."

Tommy stayed a minute to bask in the proudness of his masterpiece. He watched Steve with a sick smile on his face. After laughing some more, he finally turned and left the room.

The door was open for a brief second, letting light into the dark band room. As soon as it came, it went.

Now Steve was alone. Completely alone. Left battered and bruised. Nothing near the pain he had with Billy, nothing like those heavy fists hitting him. But just because it wasn't Billy didn't mean it didn't hurt.

This time it hurt in more ways than one.

He struggled to get up, his insides feeling like they've been rearranged. His balls hurt like a bitch, and he hates to admit that getting his nuts stepped on was the most painful part. 

The desk he was leaned up against was used as a lift, helping Steve gain his balance once again. 

It took time for him to eventually leave that room, adding on the fear he had of someone seeing him like this.

The hallway was no longer as bright as it was before. They had turned all the school lights off, leaving the double doors at the end of it to bring in the orange hue. He slowly walked towards the exit, using the lockers as leverage. His head was throbbing, and his stomach ached. 

When he walked out, Tommy's car was gone, leaving his BMW and probably a teacher's car left in the parking lot. He had a hard time getting his keys into the lock, it almost took a minute for him to unlock his car. Maybe he shouldn't be driving home like this. It was probably unsafe, with his vision only being seventy-five percent there. But who was he going to call? Nancy? Just so she could make him feel like even more like a looser. His parents? He didn't know if they would pick up the phone anyways.

Billy... he didn't have his number.

Steve ended up driving home just fine, the only mishap being him driving over the yellow line a little bit when a car passed him. The aggressive honk was enough to sober him up.

His driveway was empty when he arrived home, and that gave him a whole other reason to cry. The earlier thoughts of him telling his parents about his day invading his mind.

The thought of them even asking about it in the first place. 

He walked in through his front door to find that it was dark, cold, and lifeless Just like yesterday, And the day before that.

Just like every day.

He sluggishly walked through the entryway, around the couch, and into the kitchen. He made his way to the refrigerator, dragging his hand across the wall as he went. He soon felt the light switch and turned on the overhead light.

It was a dull yellow that made everything in the room look gross. It had an awful twitch as well, flickering in and out of consciousness.

Steve struggled to bend down to the freezer. His stomach was killing him, making it almost hard to breathe. After digging around the frozen meats and waffles, he found a bag of green peas. He brought it to the kitchen sink and threw it hard, a young bang from them hitting the metal of the sink rang in his ears. He almost forgot the hit his head. 

Now carrying his soon to be ice pack that was free of frozen clumps, he began heading to his room. He passed through the living room, feet shuffling on the carpet. 

The couch. He stopped and turned around.

The couch, that Billy and he are supposed to be watching a movie on. 

In two days.

Tomorrow was Thursday, which is the day before Friday. And what comes after that is Saturday... The day they had planned the movie night. Steve wanted to plummet to the ground, let himself lay there as he cried. 

He couldn't let Billy see him like this. He needed at least a day to recover, to heal. His face was too swollen to go to school. Everything else he could hide okay, it's not like anyone will be seeing him without a shirt on anyway. His parents weren't home so there was nobody to say he couldn't take tomorrow off. 

Yeah, that's what he'll do. 

It's fine. It's all going to be fine.

He didn't take a shower, didn't change his clothes. Just laid down on his bed in the same bloody sweater, as he held an ice pack to his face. He stared at the ceiling, wishing for the sensation of his mother's hand in his hair, for her to sit by him and whisper sweet nothings into his ears. 

Like that would ever happen. Steve can't remember the last time it did.

The ice pack was too cold, he probably should have wrapped a cloth around it. It felt nice though. The crunchy peas inside numbed his broken face. He honestly didn't know where to use the ice pack first. His stomach, his face, or...

His balls.


	6. Chapter six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might have gotten a little carried away. 
> 
> Just a little.
> 
> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!

Steve decided to stay home Thursday after awaking with a hideous headache, and his face looking like it had been dragged by a truck.

Even though he was able to stay in the comfort of his home, and avoid all of his life problems, he still thought about all the things he would have to face in the upcoming days.

One.

Going to school again, looking like ground beef. He has dealt with it three times, and tomorrow will be the fourth. He couldn't stand the way his classmates would all avoid him when he was looking, but the minute his eyes went somewhere else they would continue peering. Judging him because he looked like shit.

Steve should be over that by now, caring about what other people think, but it's hard. There is not one single person on this planet who hasn't felt the eyes of others and wanted to change themselves so they could feel liked and wanted.

Two.

Billy was a huge obstacle. Steve hated to say that because Billy has honestly been the highlight of his life in the last couple of months, but he didn't know what to expect when it came to him. How he would react, or what he would say was a mystery to Steve. So the only way to fix this problem is avoidance.

Not his best plan, but it was better than nothing. Better than completely running away.

And three.

His movie night. He groaned when calling it that. It sounded so childish like he was in third grade or something. But what else should it be called? A date?

Nope. Not gonna go there.

It was still a big issue. He wanted Billy to hang out with him so bad, so they could sit and watch movies and talk for hours if they wanted to. But avoiding Billy at school didn't really line up with his plan for Saturday.

Steve walked around his house with a bag of frozen peas to his face, contemplating his decisions. He would lay down and rest like he's supposed to if it weren't for this anxious pool streaming through his limbs. It was making it hard for him to sit in one place for too long.

It was a long day, to say the least.

It was around ten at night and he had just taken his shower. His trip to his bed was dazed after the look he got of himself in the bathroom mirror. The large mark on his belly, slightly under his ribs, was almost green. The purple in the middle making it look like a disease was spreading. He had been afraid to pull his shirt up all day, knowing that the sight underneath was not pretty. When touching the tender spot Steve was reminded of Tommy's wrath. The hatred he cast upon him.

The thought made him shudder. 

Of course, he was angry. Why wouldn't he be? Tommy manhandled him in all the wrong ways, marking and bruising Steve even though he didn't really do anything wrong. But a sliver of fear killed that anger. Steve was afraid of Tommy. He hated to admit that.

But he never knew how dangerous an old friend could be.

Steve went to bed with a lot on his mind, swirling around like ice cubes in a glass of water. He really didn't think he would be going to bed easily, especially with all the crap that he was thinking about, but before he could even notice he fell asleep.

Friday was a new day, and Steve kept repeating that in his head. Trying to convince himself that the universe will fix this mess. 

He got ready like every other day. Same routine but with a couple of extra steps. He made a detour to his parent's room. They had a large bathroom with a two-person vanity. 

It was clearly obvious who's side was who's. His father had a small bottle of cologne sitting on a glass tray. His toothbrush was in a cup with a pair of tweezers, and then he had a razor laid by the edge of the sink. His father was a simple man. He didn't really need much in his life to be happy, Steve knew that, but it made him question the need for the big house and all the expensive decor they had littered around. 

His mother on the other hand.

Her side of the vanity was full to the brim with toiletries and varieties of different skincare products. 

There was some light brown power that dusted the surface, and some pink as well. Some of her hair had fallen into the sink, leaving thin strings of dark hair stuck to the side of it.

If this were Steves's bathroom he would have been screamed at for having it so messy.

He opened drawer after drawer looking for where she held her makeup. Finally, Steve opened a tiny side drawer that was crowded with eyeliner, lip liner, blush, massacre, and-

The foundation.

He silently cheered at the success of finding it. His mother and he weren't exactly the same skin color. Steve was slightly paler in comparison, but it could be worse.

He sat down on her small chair, dragging the handheld mirror over to his side.

The marks on his face were nothing in comparison to the traces that Billy left. His punches left skid marks across his cheeks.  
The worst that Tommy did was the kick to his stomach, and well... 

His balls.

But other than that, the swelling of his lips and cheeks went down after a whole day of icing them with various frozen vegetables.

He tried to gently pour the foundation out on to tissue, but more came out than expected. He placed his pointer finger in the paint like liquid and dotted it around the areas that were discolored. He focused on blending it out so the color change wasn't too obvious to others.

After about ten minutes of trying to perfect his face, he noticed that the clock read eight-twenty five. Only five more minutes until school starts.

He quickly cleaned up his mom's area, making sure to put everything back where it belonged, and rushed out of the room.  
On the way to his car, he almost forgot his sunglasses, the main item that was going to help him pull this off.

Steve thought that he would just we're his Ray Bands all-day, act as if it was just a little bit too bright outside. He hoped that's what it will look like. 

He drove to school at a fast speed, trying to beat the clock in his car. He only ended up a few minutes late, but it got him an annoyed eye roll from his teacher once he got to his first class.

The rest of that day was a mystery to Steve. He had no idea what the outcome would be.

* * *

His first few classes went pretty well. No one looked at him, and it almost made him grateful that he wasn't popular anymore. Nobody gave a shit about what Steve did, he was old news. And luckily for him, Billy had a completely different schedule than he did until it came to lunch.

It really was going smoothly, his confidence building as each period went by. But that confidence soon faded once Nancy stopped by his locker during a class change, a worried expression on her face.

"Steve." She said, voice tight with concern. He tried to hide behind the metal door of his locker, focusing on putting his books away and trading them for another.

"What's up?" He responded casually like nothing was new. Her small hand pressed firmly on the locked door, closing it shut right in Steves's face with a loud bang. 

She crowded in, looking around to make sure no one was listening.  
"What the hell!" She whisper-screamed. Her big blue eyes looking adamant about finding out what happened.

"What Nance?" He was still trying to play it off. While readjusting his books in his hands he could sense her incredulous expression.

"Just thought I'd give you some makeup tips. I suggest getting a new foundation, doesn't really match your skin color."

Her words were all too knowing, making Steve freeze in place.

He huffed, understanding that fighting with her was pointless. She already knew.   
He pulled his sunglasses down just a little bit, so he could look at her directly.

"Listen, you can't make a big deal about this, alright?" They were huddled against the lockers like they were having a secret conversation. Well, they were.

"What?" She fussed, Steve shushed her, eyes going wide. She rolled her eyes and brought her voice down. "I don't understand you, Steve. You come to school wearing shitty makeup and sunglasses expecting everyone to just _not_ notice?" 

"Well yeah, " He whispered. "It's been working so far, not a single person has come up to talk to me."

Nancy looked unsatisfied with his answer, eyebrows turning down to help show that.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" She pitched, her voice layered with worry?

Steve cast his eyes away, not being able to look at her. Those blue eyes being a reminder of one of his biggest problems of the day. "That's beside the point, Nance." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I need you to promise me you won't say anything." He pleaded. She looked at him uncertainty in her expression.

"Okay, " She spoke softly. Steve sighed in relief, feeling like this was one weight off his back. Nancy wasn't finished yet.  
"But only if you tell me who did this to you. I won't say anything to anyone, I swear Steve." She laid a delicate hand over Steves that was still placed on her shoulder.

He looked at her eyes, and then their hands that were connected, and then around the hallways to make sure everyone was minding their own business.

"Tommy." He said with disappointed words. Nancy looked like she had just been slapped. The news surprising her.

"Wednesday, after school," Steve added. He scratched his forehead, not wanting to talk about this for any longer.

"Jesus, " Her voice was faint. "Why?" She asked. Steve stopped for a second to think. He remembers clearly what Tommy said. 

_'If you talk to me again like you did the other day, I will fucking ruin you.'_

He knew the answer. But he couldn't tell Nancy that.

"I don't know." He replied with a wave of his hand. "He's just an asshole, we've known this."

Nancy looked down at her feet, thinking about the situation. "Yeah, but Tommy stopped having anything to do with you along time ago. I just don't get why now."

Steve hated not telling her the truth. Being able to tell her the conversation at lunch that pissed Tommy off so much. But if he told her about that, that would mean he would have to explain why suddenly now he's hanging out with Billy Hargrove. That was too much for his brain to handle.

He simply said, "I don't know, Nancy. People do stupid things for stupid reasons."  
She didn't say anything after that, suddenly going quiet. She fiddled with her fingers and then peered at her watch. 

"Shit." She said, looking at the time on the small band. "I gotta go." Her eyes looked guilty like she felt bad for leaving Steve.

"Yeah, I'll see ya around." Steve gave a half-hearted smile, energy now drained from the conversation. 

"Talk to me, Steve. I'll always listen if you need an ear." She sent him a sweet smile and then turned to go to her next class. At this point, Steve didn't care if he was late. He just leaned himself up against his locker.

This was a lot harder than he thought.

Steve wishes he could travel through time, go back to when Billy was saying all that bullshit so he could shove a peach in his mouth. Maybe then Tommy would've just left Steve alone.

So he could have his simple movie night with a guy he enjoys hanging out with.

After his conversation with Nancy, he noticed the school clock on the wall almost read eleven am. Only one more class until lunch. He swallowed down his nerves, trying to gain control over his body again.

"Fuck." He muttered to himself as he quickly walked down the hall. Students still lingered in the hallway so he kept his head down, hiding his face from curious eyes.

Lunch was going to be a blast.

* * *

"Breathe, Steven. Just breathe." Steve kept saying to himself. He was trying to convince his brain, to convince his legs to move. He was standing outside the cafeteria door, people walking past him to go inside.

God help him.

This was going to be a whole twenty-five minutes of him facing Billy. Billy's eyes watching him. There's no way. He's gonna know. 

Steve was repeatedly tapping his right foot on the ground, needing to release his nerves someway. He yelped when a heavy arm came crashing around his neck. 

A strong scent of cologne wafting through the air. 

Deep vibrating chuckle right by his ear.

"How's my pretty Princess doing today?" Billy teased. He had a snarky smile and his face was close to Steve.

_Pretty_? Steve thought to himself. He's had better days. He looked to the right, avoiding Billy's blue eyes.

"She's fine. Thank you for asking." He tried to keep the banter just like every other day. 

They made a move into the cafeteria, some eyes on them, others elsewhere. Billy still had his arm around Steve and was trying to guide him to the lunch line, but Steve directed them to their table.

Billy raised his eyebrows. "No peach?" He asked. Steve swallowed.  
"Not really hungry." He replied. It was short but Billy didn't think anything of it.

They got to the table and Steve quickly sat down, head tilt towards his lap. The sunglasses on his face still his best weapon.

"I can't believe you're wearing those," Billy commented, give a short scoff.

"Huh?" 

"The sunglasses, stupid. What else?" Steves blood went cold. Shit. _Shit_.   
If they started talking about them then Billys going to start questioning and that's the last thing he needs.

"Oh, uh. It's... Bright outside." He cringed, wishing he could take that reply back.

"Yeah, no shit. That's what the sun does."  
Steve felt a red wave hit his cheeks. He knew that Billy couldn't see the blush, not with all the makeup on.

"Just being cautious, I guess."

Billy looked at him with searching eyes. Like he was figuring something out.

"Right." The syllables coming out slowly.

Steve swallowed a second time and shoved his fists into his jacket pockets. This was so awkward. Billy was looking at him like he was crazy and Steve felt like he _was_ going crazy.

Billy leaned on the table, forearms supporting his weight. His eyes were incredibly focused on Steve as if he'd never seen him before.

"You good?" He asked quietly, all too serious.

Steve ducked his head further down, pushing his glasses up with his pointer finger. "I'm fine." 

Billy's jaw worked back and forth. He sat back in his chair with his arms crossed. It almost looked like he was pouting.

"Of course you are." The words sounded plastic coming from Billy's mouth. Like he didn't believe a single word Steve was saying. God, he was sweating! Like the fucking room was on fire. He shifted uncomfortably in his jacket.

Billy noticed.

It was like a staring contest was going on between them if you could even call it that, with it only being one-sided. Billy's eyes danced over Steve's frame. While Steves's only view was looking down at his sneakers.

The chair across from him screeched, and Billy was standing up with a pissed look on his face. He licked his lips and felt around his pants for his cigarettes.   
Steve peered up at him through his glasses with his big brown eyes 

"I'm going for a walk," Billy stated as his tongue rolled the inside of his cheek. He gave his chair a hard shove, clashing it with the edge of the table. 

Steve didn't want Billy to leave. He liked having lunch with him. He also didn't want Billy to be mad.

"Wait, " Steve asked. He had no idea what he was doing, this was against all the rules he had for today. Maybe if he just kept his head down like he did hours before things would be fine. "Do you want to be alone? Or..."

Billy rolled his eyes at Steve like he was some little puppy asking for permission to use the bathroom. "Come on." He said jutting his head to the outside doors.

He was several feet ahead of Steve and that benefited him greatly. He looked at the back pockets of Billy's jeans. The denim was stretched tight and he eyed the small 'Levis' tag near the waist. 

Steve chuckled to himself, thinking about a conversation they had a couple of lunches ago.

They walked outside to the small school garden full of planted tomatoes, and beans. Probably all school projects. They were labeled with tiny signs telling you the specific type.

It was pretty and open, a perfect place to get away. He wondered why they didn't come out here more often.

A breeze blew by that made Steves's hair fly out of his face. It ran chills up his arms, and now he was glad that he stuck with the jacket. Billy was leaning casually against the brick wall of the building, lighting a cigarette. He struggled to keep a flame because of the cold winds.

Steve took a step and cupped a hand around the lighter, so he could light it. While he stood there he felt Billy's eyes all over his face, looking him up and down. The heat from the flame began to get a little too hot on Steves's hand, so he pulled it away. 

"Thanks," Billy mumbled, cigarette dangling from his mouth. An intense stare was coming from him, and because of the angle of the sun, it made his eyelashes look even darker, even thicker from the shadow that was created. 

It highlighted his freckles, tiny light brown spots splattered on his nose and cheeks.

Billy kept his serious expression but moved his hand with the cigarette in Steves's direction, offering a hit. He hesitated not knowing if he wanted to or not.

He placed one hand under his armpit and stretched the other towards Billy's fingers.  
Steve thought he was going to get a well-needed hit from a cigarette. But Billy had different plans.

His tan palm gripped Steves's wrist so fast he didn't even have time to flinch. He yanked on it, turning Steves body around, and then pushed him up against the wall.

The air was knocked out of him, and panic started to rise in his chest. 

_Tommy_.

That's all he could think about. Steve stood still, breath uneven as Billy's forearm was pressed tightly against his chest, while his other hand had Steves's wrist. Billy's breath was warm, almost steaming. Steve felt afraid to breathe in the same air.

"What the fuck is up with you today?" Billy asked. His eyes showed concern and his voice was nowhere near mean. It was stern, but not mean. Steves's heart was pounding in his chest, the emotion coming from Billy making his belly tighten.

"Nothing, " Steve breathed, trying to catch his breath. "Nothing is up."

"Bullshit." Billy snapped, and it felt like a shot to the heart. Steves's mouth parted not knowing what to say to that. He fumbled and made a noise in the back of his throat that almost sounded like a whimper. Nancy came to mind, that word connected to her.

He didn't want to be bullshit in Billy's eyes.

"I'm taking the glasses off." He said matter of fact.

Steves's eyes widened. "No! Don't take them off." 

"I'm taking the damn glasses off." Billy gritted. His hand went to Steves's face, gripping his RayBands by the bridge and then throwing them on the ground.

He stared at him.

...and stared.

And then, "Are you wearing makeup?"

Steve groaned, not understanding how it could be so obvious.

Fuck me, Steve thought.

A soft touch was suddenly on his cheek near his eyes. Billys' thumb brushed his skin, pressing down trying to smudge off the foundation.

Billy held his thumb up to Steve, showing off the tan color on his skin. "What are you hiding?"

Steve swallowed his tongue.

"I- I think I need to go to the bathroom."

The walk to the restroom was short, but Steve felt like it was taking years. 

Billy followed him the whole way, staying close on his side. Luckily it was empty, the stall doors all open. Billy leaned against the wall, waiting for Steve to do whatever he was doing.

He walked to the sink and grabbed a paper towel with shaky hands and wet it. He could see those blue eyes watching him through the mirror.

He brought the towel to his face, rubbing harshly under his eyes, and cheeks. His skin was red from all the friction, but he could still see the scratches and bruises as plain as day. His eyelid was a purple-red, and so was the corner of his mouth.

Billy didn't move from his spot but just looked at Steve silently. With his mouth screwed tight, and eyes dark as he looked at the mess on Steves's face, a familiar gaze took over his expression. One that Steve has witnessed first hand.

The Byers.

Like he was hurting someone else.

"Who." That single word echoed through the bathroom, it was cold and crisp. Steve averted his glare in the mirror. 

There's no way in hell he can tell him. Or Tommy will surely die. 

Steve kept quiet and started washing his hands. Then he continued to throw the bunched up paper towel away.

" _Steve_ ," Billy warned. 

"I'm not going to tell you." He said matter of fact. Billy's jaw did that thing when he's pissed and is trying to keep cool. Where the muscles of his neck work and pull. 

"Tell me." His voice stayed completely even as he spoke, not letting his emotions come through.

Steve turned and looked at him. His face in full view. He swore he saw Billys face drop, just for a second.

"No. Just let it go, Billy." 

He strutted over to Steve, getting close up in his face. "You just got your fucking face beat, and you want to drop it?" 

Steve bit at the dried scab on his lip. "You're such a hypocrite." He mumbled.

Billy blinked his eyes like he couldn't believe what his ears were hearing. "You wanna say that again, Harrington?" He was testing Steve, he wanted him to repeat it.

"When you came to school with a bruise half the size of your face I wasn't able to say anything."

Steve moved his hands in an animated way. "I remember, you looked at me and said 'don't' and I listened because I knew you didn't want to talk about it." 

Billy clenched his teeth.

"Now, what gives you the right to dig into my business, huh?" 

Billy smacked the sink behind Steve, his ring clipping the edge of the porcelain. "We're not talking about me!" 

"Well, maybe we should!" Steve got right up in Billy's face, breathing like a bull, having a standoff. 

"Fuck Billy, I mean. I know I have shit to deal with, okay? But you..."

He didn't want to say it. But he needed to.

No, he wanted to say it, but Billy's eyes looked like they were going to burst. He looked like he was preparing for the blow.

"Me?" He edged on.

"You... Just." And Steve lost what he was about to say.

Billy was a whole different species from Steve. He had more problems than most people could count. He was angry, aggressive, hateful, rude- fuck! He was everything! But Billy was working on himself, becoming a real person. 

Steve has been stuck in the same hole for almost a year. He hasn't even tried to climb out. 

He really was just bullshit.

"You're just, " he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and then left them there. "So much different than I am. The last thing I want to do is pull you into all my shit."

He pushed on his eyes hard, trying desperately to stop any form of waterworks. This was not the time or place to cry. 

"Hey, " He felt a warm hand pull on his shoulder. Steve just clenched his eyes tighter. " _Hey_ , " Billy spoke.

Steve pulled his hands away and blinked his eyes, hoping the red would fade. His lashes felt wet and heavy. "Your issues aren't shit, okay?"

Steves's breath stopped when he felt Billy's thumb rub into the dip of his collarbone.

"I owe you, " Billy stated, so Steve nodded his head. "I want to help." He affirmed.

"But I want to help you too," Steve replied.

"I don't deserve your help, Steve." His words were soft-sounding even though they were sad to hear.

"At least it wasn't me who fucked up your face this time." He chuckled. Steve didn't really find it that funny, the timing of the joke being off.

He gave Billy a short glare.

"Lighten up Princess." He gave Steve a playful smack to the cheek with his hand.

Billy backed away, leaving a wide space between them. They were still facing each other, both of them looking. The abuse to Steves's face was still sinking in on Billy. 

He shook his head. 

Steve frowned his brows. "What?"

Billy raked his fingers through his curls. "You're too pretty to look like this."

Pretty. 

Not pretty. 

But to Billy, yes.

Steve started to bite on his lip again, reopening the split. His face was on fire, the apples of his cheeks feeling like a hot pan. No one has ever called him pretty like that before.

Sure, the nicknames were a day to day thing. 'Pretty boy' 'Princess' all of it was just simple teasing. He'd been called hot, or cute, sexy even,

But what he just said...

That felt like he just told Steve a secret.

"Fuck off," Steve said with a goofy smile and small laugh. Even though he acted like it was a joke, it meant so much more to Steve than Billy realized.

"Hey, uh listen, " Steve started, as he pulled on the collar of his shirt. "We still cool for tomorrow?" He felt so stupid asking. He didn't want Billy to think he was eager.

"Are the snacks still happening," Billy asked.

"Of course." He responded. Billy grinned, sticking the tip of his tongue out between his white teeth.

"Well, then I guess it's a date."   
Steve didn't have the mental capacity to react to Billy. Instead, he dumbly nodded his head with a blank expression.

"Yeah... Alright." He mumbled. 

Billy walked out of the bathroom with a wide smile, winking at Steve on the way out.

Date.

He told Steve it was a date.

"Fuck me," Steve whispered to his reflection in the mirror.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HHHEEEYYYYY! I'm so sorry for how long it was for me to update. Just started school again, so life is pretty crazy. Please enjoy this one. I know, I know, we've all been looking forward to this chapter.

For some reason, the grocery store was out of regular buttered popcorn, so Steve had to settle for Kettle corn. Which he hated.  
But that was okay because all this fattening food he was buying was for Billy and not himself. So far he has picked out Skittles, M&M's, Potato chips, Seven-up, and a large box of Oreos accompanied by a gallon of milk. The Oreos were for himself.

Today was a big day. A _huge_ day. 

As Steve pushes his cart around the store, looking for other snacks, he thought about the unraveling inevitability of watching a movie with Billy Hargrove. He shouldn't be scared, or nervous, or- whatever this is. But it needs to stop. This wasn't a date night with a Hawkins girl, or some lovey-dovey get together. This was simply just hanging out with a friend. 

Steve soon realized that he had enough once he had aimlessly walked around the store three times. He made his way to the checkout, having a short conversation with the cashier. She was an old woman who has been working there since at _least_ the 70s. The woman had been there throughout Steve's childhood. He can remember her giving him stickers every time he came by with his mom. It always made him smile, even if the gift was so small.

At least there was one good memory from his childhood.

After loading the bags into his trunk he headed off back home. Steve's face overnight, had cleared up like magic. Not literal magic, there were still scuff marks and a pale bruise by his eye, but it looked much better than it did the previous day. That made him feel a little bit better about tonight. That means that Billy will be less likely to want to talk about what happened and who started the fight. Steve has no plans of telling him that Tommy did it. None what so ever. And hopefully, if luck is on his side, Billy won't try to pull it out of him.

It was already a courter past five, he had about three hours to get ready, not that there was much to do. Yeah, he wanted to maybe Vaccum a little bit, since he has practically been eating all of his meals on the couch. Some crumbs and wrappers hide underneath the couch and around the coffee table, and a really old cup of milk still hasn't been taken to the kitchen. So yeah, there was some stuff he needed to clean, but other than that Steve had at least two hours to himself.

After walking around with a trash bag, filling it up with all of his teenage garbage, Steve was able to flop down on his couch. There was a clock that hung right above the TV. It was a gift from his Grandfather, that was more directed towards his parents. It has a golden pendulum that swings back and forth with each second that goes by. There are times the clock helps Steve calm down, allows him to breathe when he feels like his quiet house is screaming at him. But right now he has a strong urge to throw the TV remote at it. 

He was already anxious. The clock was only making it worse. Reminding him about the time, the countdown until Billy gets here. That wasn't long from now. The hour he thought he would spend relaxing, ended up being him taking a shower and arguing with himself about which shirt he wanted to wear.

Red, green. No, the red one looks better. But he likes the green one.  
He ended up wearing neither of them and stuck for an old college crew neck that his father gave to him. 

Steve heard the growling of his engine before the knock on the door even came. 

It's showtime, baby.

His socked feet ran down the stairs in a hurry, almost slipping on the last step. There were three different locks on his front door. His parents installed them after realizing their son was home _alone_ ninety percent of the time. It took them two years to acknowledge that. After turning the last lock he opened the door, ready to embrace the strong presence of Billy.

Steve swallowed. 

In his mind, he expected Billy to show up in a leather jacket, maybe sporting some dangling earring. But no. He looked... extremely casual. He was wearing regular blue jeans and an old t-shirt with some beer company's logo on it. His hair was just as normal as ever, which surprised Steve the most. And something about that was more appealing to Steve then he thought it would be.

"Hi." Billy greeted with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, man." Steve smiled at him. He quickly moved back and held the door open for Billy's large frame to pass-through. Once Steve finished locking the door, he turned around a saw that Billy had already made his way to the living room. As if he comes here every day. He followed his tracks, finding him lounging on the couch with one leg propped on the coffee table. "You know, in my head I almost expected it to be bigger," Billy stated as his eyes traced the wallpaper and the pictures that hung there. 

"Bigger what?" He asked. Billy was a pro at making Steve feel like he was lagging. He could never keep up with his fast-moving brain. 

"Your house." Billy tilted his head at Steve, a goofy smile already on his face and the night has barely begun. There was this swoop of excitement in Steve's chest that made his whole body shiver. The thought that Billy was already smiling and they still had the rest of the night to go.  
"Oh? I'm sorry to disappoint." He replied as he walked to the kitchen. As he was filling his arms with food, and plastic bags he heard a distant "Good." that make him chuckle.

He entered the living room, barely being able to see over the stack of snacks he had pilled in his arm. He dropped all of the items in the seat besides Billy. "Here, you ungrateful shit," he said with a laugh, "get diabetes, I don't care." Billy grinned at all the food, his needs being finally met. Blue eyes shot up at Steve as he brought a handful of chips to his mouth. "If it's diabetes I get, then it's well worth it."

Steve scoffed while he picked up the VHS. He crouched down by the TV, looking at all the buttons. As he sat figuring out the tape, Billy was munching away on chips. 

"So Steve, tell me, how long has it been since you've had a girl on this couch?" Billy prompted. He had no clue why he was asking that question and what that intended, but it was confusing enough to make Steve lose track of what he was doing. 

"Um, I don't know. Maybe a year?" Billy hummed in the background. "Not since I've been with Nancy." He said with his back turned to him.

"I'm surprised." He stated.

Steve frowned his brows, straining his neck to look back at Billy. "Why?"   
Billy stuffed some more chips into his mouth. Steve finally got the stupid TV to take the damn tape, so he closed the case and got up to move to the couch. 

"I guess I just thought that maybe you still hung around, ya know?"   
Steve pulled his knees up on the couch and crossed them. 

"I haven't been like that since my Sophmore year. It gets old real fast." He didn't know why Billy was curious about this. But hey, He's wondered the same thing about Billy and who he sleeps around with. Rumors come out fresh every day, whether it's about a girl he slept with or some fight he started. None of it's true though. He thinks. 

"One could disagree there, Amigo." Steve chuckled. Typical answer.

"Yeah, okay." 

He started the movie having to adjust the volume a couple of times. Weirdly enough both of them fell into this comfortable silence. Like they have done this a million times. When one wanted the M&M's they would pass them over without hesitation or even looking away from the screen. Steve didn't expect this. He had fears of it being awkward and tense. That maybe he and Billy wouldn't know how to act. It's been a while since either of them had any real friends, so he didn't know if they could act normal outside of school.

Billy was kinda right. The movie was a little dumb, maybe because of the bad acting. But none the less it was fun. They joked about the scenes that were just too cringy to sit through, and more than once Steve would cackle at the comments Billy made to the TV. Steve even taught Billy how to flick Skittle into his mouth. 

In the middle of an intense scene with one of the characters, Billy nudged Steve's arm with his elbow. Steve turned his attention to Billy mid-way through an Oreo.

"Hm?" He hummed. Billy shuffles a little bit so he was more clearly facing Steve.   
"Your face looks better." He stated. Steve swallowed the remaining cookie in his mouth. He knew this was going to happen, that the topic of his face and the fight would come up. "Yeah, it does."

"Did you ice it?" Billy asked with his full attention on Steve.   
"I'm not stupid, of course I iced it." Steve watched the way Billy's eyes scanned his face. With the room as dark as it was and the glow of the TV illuminating Billy's profile, it made Steve's stomach twist. Heat started to grow on his ears. It was too much attention all at once. 

"Just making sure." He simply said.

"Why?" Steve asked. After he said it he thought he sounded rude for asking. Billy was just making sure he was okay, but Steve felt this need to defend himself. He was afraid that Billy was going to interrogate him, start shoving questions down his throat. 

Billy's eyes went back to the TV for a second. He shrugged one shoulder as if he didn't know the answer to his question. Steve waited patiently for Billy to respond. 

"I just- I don't know. I guess I just wanted to make sure you were okay is all." Billy picked at his thumbnail with his teeth, Steve now recognizing as a growing habit. The words that just came out of his mouth felt like they should have come from someone else. 

"Oh," Steve whispered. 

"You looked-" Billy started, he licked his lips thinking about the words he wanted to say. "Your face was really fucked up. And I guess I felt bad?"

"I'm fine, dude. I've dealt with worse." And boy Steve wishes he didn't say that. Hurt was instantly detected in Billy's eyes. Yeah, Billy would know.

"I'm sorry." Billy's blue eyes stared at Steve with pure intensity. "I really am." 

Steve swallowed. "I know." The movie was still going on in the background, loud noises becoming unheard, unreal. 

"I just don't want you to be pissed at me, ya know? I mean you have every right in the world to be, but-" He paused when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Steve's big brown eyes stared him down to keep Billy in place.

"I'm not mad," Steve spoke clearly. Billy rolled his eyes.

"Come on, man. You don't have to spare my feelings or some shit. It's okay if you are." Billy was defiant.

"But, I'm not. I'm not trying to spare your feelings or anything like that. Do you think that I would sit with you every day at lunch, or share my food with you, or- _invite_ you over to my house to watch fucking movies with me if I was still mad at you?" Steve ranted. He prayed that Billy would listen to him and hear was he was saying. All he did was stare at Steve with wide eyes. 

"If I had an issue with you, you would know. Trust me." He laughed off. Steve landed a slim hand on Billy's shoulder again and gave It a shake.  
"Okay?"

Billy looked like he wanted to say 'no, not okay' but instead of being stubborn, he just nodded his head quietly.  
After that intervention, they both slouched back into the couch cushions. Neither of them knew what was going on at this point in the movie, after missing so much, but that didn't matter. The smell of sticky candy and melted butter soothed Steve. He felt good to be where he was. 

Even if that included being with Billy. 

Both boys stared at the TV screen thinking about things that did not consist of Nicholas Cage. 

"I like this one," Billy said. It took Steve a second to process that someone just spoke to him.

"The movie? I thought you said it was dumb?" he asked.   
Billy rolled his eyes and turned his head towards Steve. 

"The movie is dumb, haven't changed my mind about that," 

He stretched out his hand to Steve's sweater and tugged at the hem, gripping the material between his fingers. 

"I was talking about your sweater. S'nice." He spoke softly. And Steve never thought the words soft and Billy could ever go together. But with Billy looking at him with warm tired eyes, his hand still held to the fabric of his sweater, all Steve could think was _soft_. 

The movie's music faded away into the background and then a sudden click came and static followed it. Their eyes were still focused on each other. 

Steve Smiled at Billy in the smallest way possible that wouldn't give away the raging feelings he had going on through his head. 

"Good." Steve spoke even softer.


End file.
